


Trust

by Fangirl_Forever



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bilbo Remains In Erebor, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BDSM, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Consort Bilbo Baggins, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Thorin Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 21:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12240708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirl_Forever/pseuds/Fangirl_Forever
Summary: Thorin wakes up confused and alone, bound to a bed in an empty room with no memory of how he got there. He is soon joined by Bilbo, Balin, and Dwalin, who fill him on everything that has happened and why he is tied to the bed with a collar on.





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Mithril Collars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11111730) by [LadyCarter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCarter/pseuds/LadyCarter). 



> So this was inspired by LadyCarter's "Mithril Collars". I don't know why I never wrote any BDSM for Bagginshield before so here's my first crack at it. I'm in the BDSM community myself so I think it'll be interesting using my own experiences and those of people I know to write this fic. That said, it will not be a fun fic full of smut. It will be angsty, as this will focus primarily on the trust aspect in Bilbo and Thorin's relationship and less on the sex. There will be sex though, so don't worry. But they both have some major issues they need to work out, in their relationship, in their personal lives, and in their duties as King and Consort under the mountain.  
> No clue when chapter 2 will be posted!  
> Please point out any errors I missed!  
> ***Previously posted to my Tumblr  
> ***I don't own these characters.  
> ***Ratings/Tags liable to change as the story progresses.

            Thorin woke up warm, hungry, thirsty, and alone, with a pounding headache. He tried to lift his hand to his head, only to find his wrists shackled. Panic began overshadowing all other feelings and he looked all around him, trying to figure out where he was. To his surprise, he recognized the room. It was a guest room in the royal wing, used for visiting royal family members or royal guests. His panic diminished slightly at learning this, but then it returned tenfold when he realized not only were his wrists shackled to the bed he was on, but his ankles were as well and there was a thick collar wrapped around his neck, not tight enough to hinder his breathing but not loose enough that it wiggled around as he moved his head. 

            Thorin struggled to remember how he had ended up there, but the last thing he remembered was trying to drown Smaug in gold and then the dragon fleeing from Erebor, promising death to the Men of Laketown. He frowned and tried again to remember, but the pain that flared in his head halted his efforts. He dropped his head back, shocked to find a pillow beneath his head. He cleared his throat and called out, “Hello?” into the silence. For several seconds, only the crackling fire answered him. And then he heard the door open. 

            He lifted his head to see who was entering, cursing for being in such a vulnerable state, but then he sighed in relief to see it was only Balin, carrying a tray of food. “Balin! _Gamil bâhûn_ , what is going on?” he asked, straining against his bonds again. 

            Balin didn’t respond, instead he merely smiled sadly and set the tray down on the small table set at foot of the bed. Then, still without a word, he left the room, ignoring Thorin’s desperate shouts. Thorin dropped his head again, closing his eyes, and didn’t see who took Balin’s place in the room. It wasn’t until a hand touched his chest did he realize he still wasn’t alone. 

            His eyes snapped open and his mouth fell open in shock seeing who was standing beside the bed. “Bilbo?” 

            The Hobbit smile gently down at him and raised a hand to his forehead, testing his temperature. “How are you feeling, Thorin?” 

            Thorin leaned his head into Bilbo’s hand, taking comfort from the touch. “My head aches something fierce and my body is sore, and I am hungry and thirsty. But I am most of all confused. What is going on? Why am I here? What happened to Smaug?”

            Bilbo shushed him and put his finger over his lips. “I’ll answer all your questions, but first let’s get some food and water into you.” With that said, he picked a waterskin up off the tray and held it to Thorin’s lips. “Drink slowly,” he ordered. 

            Thorin frowned up at him. “Why will you not let me loose? I can feed myself.”

            Bilbo sighed. “Please, trust me, Thorin. Let me do this for you and then I will explain to you what’s going on. Please,” he pleaded quietly. Thorin stared up at him for a moment before he nodded and settled back against the bed. Bilbo smiled and lifted the waterskin again. “Now, drink slowly,” he repeated.  


Thorin struggled to obey, his thirst making him want to gulp the water down as fast as he could. It took several minutes, but eventually the waterskin was empty and his thirst was sated. Smiling, Bilbo wiped his chin and mouth dry before he picked up the bowl and proceeded to spoon feed the hot broth to Thorin. It took several more minutes before the bowl was empty and Thorin’s stomach was full. Bilbo wiped his mouth again and set the bowl back on the tray before he held a much smaller cup up to his lips, quickly explaining it was a concoction from Oin to take care of the pain in his head. Thorin eagerly drank it down, though he couldn’t stop his grimace at the bitter taste.  
After that, Bilbo adjusted the furs covering Thorin, bringing to his attention that he was naked underneath the furs. If Bilbo noticed the blush on his face, he didn’t speak. Finally, Thorin couldn’t take it anymore and he asked, “What is going on, Bilbo?”

            Bilbo licked his lips and hesitantly asked. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

            “Smaug. Leading him through the forges. Drowning him in gold . . . he flew off to Laketown! What happened, are the Men okay? Where is Smaug?”

            Bilbo placed a hand on Thorin’s shoulder to settle him. “Easy, Thorin, everyone is fine. Laketown was . . . destroyed. But Smaug is dead. Bard, you remember Bard, the bargeman? He killed the dragon, with one arrow I’m told. Smaug is lying at the bottom of the lake.” 

            Thorin sighed in relief, but his relief faded quickly seeing the look on Bilbo’s face. “What is it? Bilbo?”

            Bilbo swallowed heavily before he said, “What else do you remember, Thorin? Anything from . . . before we entered the mountain?”

            Thorin closed his eyes and hissed in pain when his brain was assaulted by images and memories he could not remember before. One image stuck out in his head however, an image of himself, Bilbo, Balin and Dwalin standing around a table, a piece of parchment laid out flat and he was signing it. Then, an image of and Bilbo alone in a bedroom, their arms around each other and their clothes . . . Thorin gasped and opened his eyes, staring up at Bilbo in shock. “Bilbo, _kurduluh_ , my beautiful Hobbit,” Thorin started complimenting and apologizing to him all at once, in Westron and Khuzdul, and he struggled against his bonds again, wanting to hold Bilbo close. 

            Bilbo leaned over him, putting his hands on his chest and bearing down with all his weight. “Thorin, lie still! You’ll only hurt yourself.”

            “Good, it is less than what I deserve for forgetting what we shared together,” Thorin said, pulling harder against his bonds. 

            Bilbo sighed and threw his hands up in the air. He backed away from the bed, mumbling under his breath, and then suddenly turned back to face him. He put his hands on his hip and said, very authoritatively, “Now, see here Thorin Oakenshield, that is quite enough of that! You have a very good reason for not remembering anything right away, so you can stop with this nonsense right now!” To his surprise, Thorin actually stopped struggling. Bilbo sighed, relieved, and sat back down on the edge of the bed. 

            They sat in silence for several seconds before Thorin finally asked the question Bilbo had been waiting for. “Bilbo, what happened after Smaug left the mountain?”

            Bilbo licked his lips and fiddled with his fingers, the only signs that he was nervous. When he spoke, his voice was calm and composed. “You went back to the treasury, started looking for the Arkenstone. We followed soon after, after we saw Smaug fall. The boys and the rest of the company joined us the next day and joined the search.”

            “Did we find it?” Thorin asked anxiously. 

            Bilbo frowned at the interruption. “I’m getting there, hold on.” Thorin nodded, chastised. Bilbo took a deep breath before he said, “You must promise me, give me your word on your honor, that you will not react to what I am about to tell you. Do you understand?” 

            “I swear on the lives of my kin that I will not react to whatever you have to say,” Thorin dutifully said. 

            Bilbo took a deep breath, and said, “I found the Arkenstone.”

            Unable to contain himself, Thorin interrupted again, this time asking, “Where is it?” 

            Bilbo bit his lip hard. “You will hold to your oath?” Thorin nodded empathically. Bilbo sighed and drew himself up, gathering his courage and readying himself in case he needed to move fast. “The Arkenstone is gone. I . . . got rid of it.” 

            For a moment, no one moved. Then, Thorin made the first move. Thorin threw himself towards Bilbo and against his bonds, growling and cursing in Khuzdul. Bilbo leapt up from the bed and sprinted to the other side of the room, shouting for Balin and Dwalin. Both Dwarrow were in the room instantly. Dwalin hurried to Thorin’s side and Balin went to Bilbo. Balin put his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder, trying to comfort the Hobbit who was watching Dwalin try to restrain Thorin with tears in his eyes. 

            “Are you alright, laddie?” Balin asked, squeezing the Hobbit’s shoulder. Wringing his hands together, Bilbo merely nodded, unable to find his voice. Across the room,

            Dwalin had pinned Thorin’s wrists down to stop him from hurting himself and he was talking fast and loud to Thorin in their language, trying to reach him. Bilbo felt glad he couldn’t understand, because he was sure Thorin wasn’t being kind to him. Then, Thorin broke out into Westron and Bilbo’s heart shattered. 

            “He’s a traitor! 

            “Ye’ don’t know what you’re saying, Thorin,” Dwalin said, beginning to shake. He was using all of his strength, but Thorin’s madness made him stronger. 

            Bilbo listened and watched as Thorin kept insulting and threatening him until finally he couldn’t take anymore and he shouted at Thorin, “You were mad, Thorin!” 

            To everyone’s shock, Thorin froze. Dwalin let him go and sat up straight, breathing hard. Taking the moment while he had it, Bilbo stepped closer to the bed, staring down at Thorin through his tears. “You were mad, Thorin,” he whispered. “You weren’t yourself. You became obsessed with finding the Arkenstone. You didn’t eat or sleep. You holed us up, here in the mountain. You wouldn’t even entertain the idea of leaving. Then, when the Men of Laketown, when Bard came, for what they were promised and to ask for help in surviving the winter, you cast them away. You sent them away, breaking your promise to them. You broke your word, Thorin. To them, and to me!” Bilbo stopped them, his voice breaking. He covered his mouth with his hands and backed away, shaking his head. 

            No one spoke for several moments, until finally Dwalin broke the tense silence. “He’s right, Thorin. You weren’t yourself then, just as you weren’t yourself just then. It was the madness. It took you. Just as it took your grandfather.” 

            Thorin, who hadn’t looked away from Bilbo once, said, “I am not my grandfather.” Bilbo shook his head, and Thorin’s eyes caught the gleam of metal hidden amongst his curls. It was a bead, one he recognized. He frowned, his mind struggling to remember the bead. When it finally came to him, he gasped. “You are wearing my bead,” he whispered. He tossed his head and realized his hair felt lighter. His hair was unbraided and he wore no beads at all. 

            Growling, he glared at the Hobbit. “You really are a thief, halfling,” he spat at Bilbo, who flinched as if struck. His hand leapt up to the bead in his hair and clenched it tight. Thorin turned to his friends then and insulted them in Khuzdul, angering Dwalin, who shouted back at him, but it only made Balin sigh and shake his head before he left the room completely. 

            Bilbo had a sneaking suspicion where he was going and he stayed silent, holding onto the bead in his hair for what little comfort it could offer. He listened to Dwalin and Thorin bark at each other in their language, only managing to catch a word he understood here and there, until finally Balin returned, three scrolls in his arms. He slammed the door shut behind him intentionally, and it had the desired effect. The noise made Thorin and Dwalin pause and Balin took that moment to say, “Thorin, you gave Bilbo your bead in Laketown.” 

            Thorin scoffed and, still touched by the madness, said, “Why would I do that? Just because I bedded him? That does not mean anything.” Thorin smirked when Bilbo gasped. 

            Balin sighed and set the scrolls down on the table by the bed. Clearing his throat, he picked one scroll up, unrolled it, and held it up for Thorin to see. “Here, we have the written agreement, cementing yours and Master Baggins’ engagement. That was when you gave him your bead. You both signed your names at the bottom. Obviously, I drew it up, and Dwalin witnessed it on your behalf and Bofur witnessed it on Bilbo’s.” Thorin stared at the scroll, dumbfounded. Balin gave him a couple minutes to read the whole thing. Then, he lifted another scroll. “This is the agreement stating that, as your fiancé, Bilbo is to be regent in the event of your incapacitation or absence.” He again gave Thorin enough time to read the whole scroll. 

            Thorin himself was growing more and more confused, as the madness fought against his own mind and memories. He shook his head, trying to clear it, but it only reminded him that he was missing his bead. The madness latched onto that and began to grow again. But then Balin showed him the last scroll. 

            Holding up the last scroll, Balin explained what it was. “This is the contract I drew up, between yourself and Master Baggins. It states that, in the event the madness takes you, Bilbo is to immediately take control, as regent and as your fiancé, and he is to do whatever is necessary to protect you, himself, and any others.” Balin lowered the scroll and looked down at Thorin. “This contract means that he was well within his rights, rights that you gave him, to have Dwalin knock you over the head, then bring you here and tie you up,” he said without warning. 

            Dwalin glared at his brother, Bilbo shouted something indignant at him, and Thorin, to everyone’s surprise, remained silent. Then, he asked in a small voice that was so unlike Thorin Bilbo actually stepped closer to him, concerned, “Is this true?”

            Balin put the scroll away and nodded. “Aye, lad, it is. That’s your signature and your seal on all three. You knew you might go mad and you planned accordingly. It was a very noble, and smart, thing to do.”

            Thorin nodded, his head aching. He was regaining all his memories now, and certain memories were making him sick to his stomach. He almost couldn’t bring himself to look at Bilbo, at his fiancé he reminded himself, but he made himself do it anyway. Bilbo, his beautiful Bilbo, was wearing his braid, not out front where it was plainly visible, but hidden within his hair and tucked behind his ear. Now that Thorin knew it was there, he could see the bead lying against his skin just under his ear, mostly hidden by Bilbo’s curls. His hand ached to reach up and touch him and he actually lifted his arm to do that, only to be reminded of his bonds when he could only move a few inches. “Bilbo,” he whispered, sagging against the bed. His eyes flooded with tears as shame and horror filled him. “Bilbo, _ghivasha_ , _birashagimi_.” 

            Bilbo didn’t think before he sat down on the bed again. “Shush, now, dear, it’s alright,” he reassured, but Thorin shook his head. 

            “Bilbo, the things I did,” Thorin trailed off, his mind supplying him with too many images for him to keep up. Bilbo had given the Arkenstone to the Man, Bard, to trade for gold. His stomach rolled again as he saw in his mind what transpired next, Bilbo admitting that he had given it to the Man, him grabbing Bilbo and trying to throw him off of the battlement. Thorin swallowed heavily several times to keep from throwing up. He felt Bilbo touching his face and he jerked his head away. He didn’t deserve Bilbo’s touch, and he said so, only to have Bilbo pinch his arm. He turned his head and stared up at Bilbo incredulously. The pinch hadn’t hurt and Thorin wisely didn’t tell him that. Instead, he said, “I should have my beard and hair shaved off for what I have done. Not just to you, Bilbo, but to everyone else as well. I have no honor left.” 

            Bilbo huffed and crossed his arms. “Oh for Yavanna’s sake! You are impossible to deal with sometimes, Thorin Oakenshield!” Behind him, Balin and Dwalin both coughed to hide their chuckles. Thorin glared at them for a second before he turned back to Bilbo. “Now, see here, Master Oakenshield, you weren’t yourself earlier. The Company know it, and they don’t blame you. You were sick. We’re going to help you get better. The Arkenstone is gone, which was the first step. Next, is getting you better.” Smiling, Bilbo wiped away his tears. 

            Thorin frowned. “What about Erebor? There’s much that needs to be done before winter sets in, for us and the Men of Laketown.”

            Balin stepped forward then, smiling. “Bilbo has been doing a remarkable job as Regent. Right after you were, I suppose, incapacitated, Dain arrived. Bilbo here was able to keep them from fighting and got them to agree to meet with him, outside the mountain.”

            Thorin’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Dain, agreed to a meeting with Thranduil?” he asked in disbelief. 

            Balin grinned and nodded his head towards Bilbo. “Your fiancé is very persuasive, Thorin.”

            Dwalin grunted and said, “It’s hard to say no to something that’s so small and cute but will still bite your ankles.” Bilbo’s nose wiggled but he simply lifted his head and chose not to respond. 

            “Anyway, we were all in the tent, myself, Bilbo, Bard, Thranduil, Dain, and Gandalf, who kept going on about some great army heading towards us. I’ll admit, Bilbo was the only one who trusted his words. We were all skeptical, Thranduil especially. But then the army showed up.” Balin paused, for dramatic effect Bilbo thought, before he continued. “Tharkun was right. Azog was leading a siege against us, two armies from opposite directions. They planned to catch us unawares and without help. I will give you more details later, but right now just know that the Men, Elves, and Dwarrow all banded together to fight against him. Gandalf helped as well, as did the Eagles and Beorn. Azog and Bolg were both defeated and we won the battle.”

            Thorin took a moment to process that information. Then his eyes widened. “Fili, Kili, where are they?” Thorin asked anxiously, struggling against his bonds again. “I need to get up, I need to see them!” 

            Bilbo laid his hand on Thorin’s chest, calming him. “Lie still, Thorin.”

            “Bilbo, please, tell me they are alright? Tell me they’re alive,” Thorin pleaded. Bilbo nodded and Thorin sighed in relief. “Can I see them?” 

            Bilbo nodded. “Alright. Dwalin will let you free, but you must do something for me, understand?” Thorin nodded eagerly. Bilbo smiled slightly at his enthusiasm and then took a breath. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re wearing a collar.” Thorin had noticed but had forgotten it, and now that he was reminded of it he could feel the warm metal against the skin on his neck. 

            “We will let your wrists and ankles free, but that stays on. It has been spelled in many ways. The Lady Galadriel, you know who she is, yes? Well, she lent her magic and strength to the enchantments. These spells are safeguards, if you will, in case you ever relapse, for lack of a better word. If you begin to feel the madness returning, or we notice you acting mad in anyway, we simply say a word and the magic will instantly knock you out for a few hours. The collar can’t be taken off, either, without saying a different word. I am the only one who knows both words, so don’t worry about that. I will tell you the first safeword, so that you may activate the collar yourself if you ever feel you need to. But I will keep the second word to myself, for your own safety as well as everyone else’s.” At the end of his rushed explanation, Bilbo cleared his throat and hung his head. 

            Thorin was reeling from everything Bilbo had just said. He hadn’t asked to be let loose again because he trusted Bilbo, and then when he remembered what he had done, how the madness had taken him, he understood why they had tied him up. But wearing a collar all the time, where everyone could see was not something he could grasp his head around easily. But, he trusted Bilbo, and his friends. If they felt this was best, he would defer to their judgement. Even if it was uncomfortable. Though, looking at Bilbo’s face he could see this wasn’t easy for him either. So, he merely nodded and Dwalin stepped forward and quickly loosened his bonds. 

            The first thing Thorin did when his hands were free was pull Bilbo against him. Bilbo half-heartedly protested his tight hold before he wrapped his arms around Thorin and held on as tight as he could in return.. After a few minutes, Balin and Dwalin quietly left the room. Neither Thorin nor Bilbo reacted. They held each other for more several minutes, neither wanting to let go first. And if they cried together, well, no one else would know.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/kudos appreciated!  
> Credit for Khuzdul goes to the Dwarrow Scholar  
> gamil bâhûn=old friend  
> kurduluh=my heart  
> ghivasha=treasure  
> birashagimi=I'm sorry


End file.
